October 5, 2013. Hygiene, CO
I’m writing this, imprecisely, on a typewriter I only half remember how to use. It’s not exactly a romantic typewriter. It’s a product of the death throes of an entire category of consumer utility item. An entire technological mode, really. It must have been sold some time in the 1990s, after the obvious total superiority of computer word processing had emerged.
“Word processing.” There’s a bit of dead marketspeak / jargon I never would have thought I’d have any lingering affection for.
The last thing I wrote in my journal was about how my experience of coming to Colorado was outlined in rainstorms. How, in my imagination, rain is bound up with change.
The flood started a day or two later.
posted February 3, 2014